Killing Hope
by Wings of Corrugated Irony
Summary: If there was one word that that could be used to describe Charlie Weasley, it would be optimistic... It takes a lot to bring despair to those who are incessantly hopeful. Personally, I suggest love. Harry/Charlie, HP/CW, CW/HP, SLASH.
1. Prologue: Contact

**Title: Killing Hope**

**Prologue - Contact**

**Word Length: 750**

**Warnings: SLASH, boyxboy, etc. kissing, implied sex (Don't like? Don't read. You have been warned.) NB: Unbetaed.  
**

**Summary: 'If there was one word that that could be used to describe Charlie Weasley, it would be optimistic.' It takes a lot to bring despair to those who are incessantly hopeful. Personally, I suggest love. Harry/Charlie, HP/CW, CW/HP, SLASH  
**

**Inspiration: Lack of Harry/Charlie stories combined with slight, post-_Spiderman_ angst... It was the first time I'd watched it, okay! Yes, very sad. I'm not very super hero literate...**

**As mentioned, this is just a prologue, it will be followed by 1 chapter (that's the plan), though 2 chapters is a possibility. Hopefully, it'll be up soon.**

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If there was one word that that could be used to describe Charlie Weasley, it would be optimistic. His hope seemed infallible and extraordinary. Everyone knew that Charlie was a rock. You could rely on Charlie, even if he was hurting too. Yes, Charlie was an optimist.

* * *

He had done it and now it was finally over. The Light were rejoicing, Harry Potter had killed You-Know-Who. It was time to celebrate…

* * *

Charlie wandered to the long trestle table at the side of the Great Hall, quickly locating the punch and filling two plastic cups. He wandered off into the crowd, looking for someone to have a drink with. He found Harry Potter sitting in a shadowy corner of the Hall, watching the rest of the joyous party-goers with dark eyes that spoke of wild, unknown terrors.

"Drink?" Charlie offered softly.

"Nah. I wouldn't say no to something stronger though. I need to…" he paused, as if considering whether he should tell Charlie, "Forget. Everything."

"Your wish is my command," Charlie said with a small chuckle. He pulled a battered, gold flask from inside his leather jacket. He poured a generous dash of the stuff into each cup and handed one to Harry, who took a sip.

"Jesus! What is this stuff?" Even with the high punch to whatever-it-was ratio, he could still feel the slow burn of alcohol.

"Dragonfire-Whiskey," Charlie replied, "Dangerous stuff, I'd look out if I were you Potter."

*

"Char-lie!" Harry exclaimed in a drunk, sing-song voice. He giggled.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked.

"You like guys, don't you? Gay 'n' all that?" Harry slurred and Charlie knew he wouldn't notice his blush.

"Yes, Harry. I'm gay," Charlie tried to remember to breathe. Harry was getting close to things he forced himself to forget around the amazing boy. Harry was no more than his little brothers friend, an adopted brother at most.

"So… You don't mind if I do this?" Harry asked and swept forward with accuracy and speed that was unexpected considering how intoxicated he was. Harry kissed him. His lips were damp from drink and saliva, yet strangely soft. He was suddenly hyper-aware of his own dry, cracked lips.

"I… I don't automatically like all men," Charlie said slowly, somehow managing to keep his voice from shaking. "Straight guys, like you, don't automatically like all girls, do they?"

"But you do like me, don't you Charlie? And girls aren't all that great anyway." Charlie sighed, he wasn't exactly sober either and he didn't seem to have the self-discipline he needed tonight. He could live with the consequences.

"You'll regret this, Harry," Charlie warned him.

"Course not, I like you too much." Simple, drunken talk should not have made his heart bubble with hope in such a way.

"Well, come on then," Charlie said, helping the boy hero to his feet. The least he could do was give Harry complete privacy, no one but them would know about this.

*

If Harry was sober, Charlie would have grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through the castle, running and laughing. But, if Harry was sober this wouldn't be happening… And then they were alone. The room was small and dark, but that didn't particularly matter. Harry was pushed to the bed and Charlie hovered above him.

"You sure about this, Harry?" Charlie inquired softly.

"Fuck yeah, Charlie." Dear Merlin, the way he said his name… "All these people have always been tryin' to control me 'n' I don't trust 'em. I trust you, Charlie. I want you to take control." The drunken slur in Harry's words couldn't stop the flood of arousal and hope that his words had caused. Charlie pressed his lips to Harry's , delighting in every movement the boy made as he reciprocated. And, for a few minutes, Charlie believed what he had dreamed for years might just be coming true.

*

His arm had been moved. It had been resting on something warm and soft and it had been moved. He heard someone shifting about lethargically, then a gasp, a sudden scuffle, a groan and some muttered words. Charlie was still half asleep, but he heard those words. They tore the hope that had grown in his heart to ribbons.

"Oh, God, what have I done?"

* * *

**So, what do you think? I know it's short, that's why it's called a prologue. Reviews would be lovely, but if you're not in the right frame of mind (I understand) then add the story to alerts so you know when the next part is up! Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Part 1: Casualty

**Killing Hope  
**

**Part 1 - Casualty**

**Word Length: 2100**

**Warnings: SLASH, boyxboy, etc. kissing, implied sex (Don't like? Don't read. You have been warned.) NB: Unbetaed.**

**Wow. Aren't I slack... I've decided to put this first part of the main story up since I've received such an excellent response. Especially considering it was only a prologue! Thanks to Mystery-Immortal, angelkat2502, Kamerreon, Potterfan89, Sexy Kylan, fifespice, flipping pages, dazzeling diamond, Where's Boo05, GothGuyInDenial, EternalFlame105, LoveWithoutLimits and TonksandRemusforever for your reviews. Thanks also to Siludia and richgirl22 for favouriting the story and the 29 people who added it to alerts. (Wow!) They all reminded me that I really needed to write this thing! The second part will hopefully be up faster than this was. (Don't hold your breath. The story's about _Killing_ Hope after all... :P) Enjoy!  
**

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Charlie was back in Romania. He had already settled back into the routine at the dragon orphanage, the part of the reserve that he ran. He fed the baby dragons five times a day and measured them during their afternoon nap. It was surprisingly relaxing for something so dangerous. The location was pretty scenic, all snow-capped mountains, green fields and forests. That probably helped. He really did try to not think about Harry, but decided that he could not control his dreams.

He was shocked and very embarrassed, to say the least, when Harry, completely smashed, wandered through his Floo at one in the morning. Charlie, who went to bed at 10pm at the latest so that he could actually get up at 5am the next morning and feed the dragons before they killed each other, had been involved in one of those aforementioned uncontrollable dreams.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," Harry slurred, "Thought you might still be up. It's only eleven in London."

"But, how the hell did you get here?" Charlie whispered, pulling the sheets to better cover his lap. Harry looked deliciously ruffled.

"Oh, I just asked Ron 'bout your address and I knew the Ministry wouldn't mind if I borrowed an international Floo."

"I see." He always managed to forget Harry's hero-ness and the status that it brought. "Why though?"

"Cuz I wanted you," Harry muttered, the words going straight to Charlie's groin. The dark-haired boy stumbled, tripping over his own feet, his waist hitting the side of the mattress as the rest of his torso fell forwards, his hand landing on… Charlie didn't bother to stifle his gasp.

"Oh," Harry sounded surprised, almost innocent. Too much.

"Yes, oh," Charlie growled, whipping off the sheets to reveal his tented boxers, before swiftly pulling the rest of Harry onto the bed and flipping him to lie on his back. Charlie grinned and snapped his fingers. Harry gasped, all his clothes had disappeared… Charlie smirked, pressing the entire length of his body against Harry's, before kissing him hungrily. Harry groaned, Charlie was naked too.

"How?" he gasped as the kiss broke momentarily.

"Working with baby dragons, strengthens my magic, so I can manage some wandless stuff," Charlie explained between heaving breaths. "Useful, huh?"

"Hell yes," Harry hissed, arching up into Charlie as he kissed him violently. Charlie responded with matching vigour. Slowly, the pieces of his dream began to reassemble.

*

Charlie shifted in his sleep. His arm was cold. His eyes fluttered open. Half the covers, Harry's half, had been thrown hastily back, leaving his uncovered arm lying on the mattress. He groaned and groped for his wand on his bedside table.

"Tempus," he muttered, squinting at the offensively bright numbers. 5:36am.

"Shit!" Broken dreams could wait, baby dragons wouldn't.

* * *

About fifteen days later, Charlie fished a strand of spaghetti from the pot and tested it, done! He set up the sieve in the sink, before carrying the pot full of pasta and hot water over and draining it. The bolognaise was simmering nicely, he gave it a quick stir. The Floo whooshed just as he turned off the element. Harry stumbled through, looking nervous, and Charlie wondered what could cause Harry to visit him sober.

"Harry," Charlie greeted him with a small nod.

"Charlie, uh, hi? Um… I just wanted to tell you that, um, I'm dating Ginny." He looked at Charlie nervously, as if he expected him to explode or something. Perhaps he thought that all Weasley's had ferocious tempers after knowing Ron and Ginny for so long.

"Congratulations," Charlie said quietly, but sincerely.

"You're okay with that?" Harry looked incredulous and Charlie nodded. "Cuz you know we can't… I can't do what I've been doing anymore."

"Of course not! I couldn't have you cheating on my younger sister, now, could I?" Charlie smiled kindly.

"Oh, no. Course not." Charlie decided that the disappointment in Harry's voice was all the product of his imagination.

"Want to stay a few minutes for something to eat? I've made spag bol," Charlie offered, internally condemning his selfishness.

"Sure," Harry accepted with a shy smile. Charlie returned it, trying not to think, and waved him towards the simple kitchen table. Charlie flicked his wand and the meal arranged itself onto two plates before settling on the table. Despite the fact that they were eating, the silence seemed awkward. They both avoided each other's gaze while also taking fleeting glances while the other wasn't watching. Charlie felt like things were going backwards. The last two times they had seen each other the end result had been sex, and now they were having a dinner date. Not that they were 'courting' or anything. Harry was definitely taken, by his little sister, no less. Which really didn't help the atmosphere.

They had both finished, yet still sat, waiting for the other to make the first move while trying not to stare. Charlie was starting to consider clearing up the plates, when Harry finally began to speak.

"Um, Charlie? You've, uh," he swallowed audibly, "You've got sauce on your face." Charlie roughly swept a hand over his mouth.

"Gone?" he asked. Harry sighed.

"No." He rose from his chair as Charlie continued to wipe his face in exactly the wrong spot.

"Here, let me," Harry offered, tentatively reaching out a hand towards Charlie's face. Charlie savagely bit down on his tongue and screwed his eyes shut before the look on Harry's face could undo him completely. It had almost seemed tender. He sharply inhaled half a breath when Harry gently touched his face, gently rubbing of the offending sauce.

"It's gone," Harry whispered, his voice and the slight puff of warm air on his face suggesting that the Harry was closer than before. In a moment of insanity, he opened his eyes to check and gasped. Harry's face eclipsed nearly all of his vision, those eyes demanding to be looked at. He'd never seen anyone's eyes up that close before, rays of colour extending from his iris like a strange imitation of the sun. He felt oddly disappointed when his eyelids slid down to cover the alluring green, but was quickly jerked out of it as a pair of lips softly brushed his own. He jerked back so he could see Harry better, so he could focus.

"Harry," he said, trying for a tone of gentle warning, but sounding disappointingly whiney to his own ears.

"I just," Harry whispered, pausing to breathe and solidify his crazed thoughts.

"I want you. I _need_… Please. Just one last time?"

"What about Ginny?" Charlie asked, his voice deliberately expressionless.

"Well, we haven't even been on a date of anything…"

"Harry, you've dated her before. For Ginny it's just a logical continuation of the past." Harry bit his lip and his gaze flicked downwards.

"You… You won't tell her, Charlie?" Harry's eyes snapped back to his as he said his name. That was definitely not fair. Charlie could tell his resolve was almost gone.

"I've already said I wouldn't tell anyone," he answered tightly.

"Well, if no one will know… Please, Charlie!" Charlie sighed, placing a gentle hand on the side of Harry's face, his finger tangling into his not-quite-neat hair. He leaned forwards slowly, swallowing hard as Harry's eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed the gentlest of kisses to the side of Charlie's mouth. Harry shifted subtly, allowing their lips to align perfectly. Everything was slower this time, the way their mouths cracked open, the near tentative ventures of their tongues, the creeping of their hands and the tightening of their holds on one another. It was so much more intense, and somehow that made it so much more sinful. Rational thoughts battled lust-filled and romantic ones, losing quickly and silently. Charlie inhaled suddenly, literally stealing Harry's breath, before dragging Harry awkwardly into his lap and crushing him painfully close. Harry's hands scrabbled around his back as to regain his balance.

"You're sure?" Charlie gasped against Harry's lips.

"Fuck, yes," Harry hissed into his mouth as he dragged him into an all-consuming kiss. Charlie moaned and savoured the taste of Harry's mouth untainted by alcohol. Free of it, the taste was as addictive as Harry himself, and Charlie couldn't decide if this was better or worse.

*

Charlie awoke in the warm embrace of Harry's arms, the ruffled brunet hair tucked under his chin. He carefully reached for where his wand usually rested, on his bedside table, but it was mysteriously absent. He found Harry's wand under his pillow and muttered a Tempus, 5:03am. He reasoned that the dragons could wait a few minutes and snuggled closer to Harry. The younger man began to stir a few minutes later and Charlie prepared himself for being pushed away and the swearing.

He felt Harry pull him closer for a split second before his entire body stiffened.

"Mornin' Harry," he whispered, desperately quelling his urge to comfort the young man. He did not reply. Instead he slid out from under the covers, collected his clothes, dressed, left the bedroom and, according to the whoosh from the kitchen, Flooed back to Britain. Charlie's heart felt like it was being slowly crushed into nothingness and he wondered idly that if his heart disappeared so too would stop the pain. But, then again, fate would never be that kind.

* * *

After that things fell into a deceptive routine. Harry began to visit him every week, always at the same time. The following mornings were always the same too. Whether Charlie was awake or asleep, Harry always left silently, his face agonisingly dispassionate. Two months slipped by that way, until one quiet Monday. Harry only visited on Friday evenings, so Charlie was certainly not expecting him. He was doing some meaningless chore that wasn't worth remembering, given the circumstance, when he heard the sound of someone calling his name cautiously. He realised half a second later just _who_ was calling his name. He heaved a great sigh to expel the sudden, stupid rush of nerves he felt before pushing open the front door of his own house and striding into the kitchen. Harry looked decidedly awkward as he leaned against one of the benches and an unhelpful voice in Charlie's head whispered that, despite his discomfort, he looked like he belonged there.

"Harry," Charlie greeted him smoothly, his voice free of inflection. Harry seemed to be biting the inside of his mouth.

"Charlie, I... I just thought that I should let you know that... That I should tell you..." Harry trailed off looking nervous and slightly undecided, as if little angelic and demonic miniatures of himself were arguing on his shoulders.

"Just spit it out, Harry. I'm not all that scary." Exasperation had seeped into his tone and he gave a wry smile.

"Ginny and I are engaged," Harry admitted in a great rush. Perhaps he thought making the truth nearly unintelligible would also make it less painful.

"Congratulations Harry, I'm sure you'll be a great brother-in-law." Charlie made no attempt to veil his sarcasm. Harry seemed to flinch, though perhaps he had imagined it.

"But, Charlie... I don't want to lose what I have with you." Harry replied, a note of pleading entering his voice.

"Well, isn't that a little greedy? Two Weasleys? I'm sure Miss Granger will be happy with just one." Charlie countered, referring to Ron and Hermione's recent engagement.

"No! It isn't like that! I do want you, Charlie. But, everyone expected me to marry Ginny..." Harry explained.

"And since when do you conform to expectations?" Charlie asked drily.

"For once in my life, I just want to be normal, Charlie." Harry replied, nearly shouting. Charlie sighed heavily.

"You'll never be normal, Harry. You're extraordinary." Charlie whispered, surprising himself with his sudden tenderness.

"You're beginning to sound like them." Harry said darkly, "The people who think they know me because they know my name."

"If I was like them I highly doubt that you would be here." Harry gave a small smile at his words and took a step closer to him. Charlie's eyebrows furrowed immediately.

"You are marrying my sister, Harry. I refuse to hurt her this way." He wondered if it was obvious that he was avoiding Harry's gaze. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have dragons that need feeding."

With that, he swept out of the house as confidently as he could, steadfastly refusing to look back. He could tell that Harry had gone as soon as he returned. Relief, grief and guilt quickly rushed in to fill the space that he had left. He sat down heavily at the scarred kitchen table, softly tracing its pitted surface as he tried not to think.

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**I would love to know what you think! (hint, hint, review!) Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading!**


	3. Part 2: Ready

**Greetings my dearest readers! Well, this seems to be turning into a bit of a monster! The plotline and the story length both... So, now this chapter, 'Ready', is, uh, ready and I shall get to work on 'Aim'... Still have no idea how many chapters this will end up being... But I might turn into a pumpkin if it doesn't finish soon. Big thanks to boostarryeyes, sjrodgers108, Erynia, dazzeling diamond (Forever greatful, my dear!), Midday Moonlight, dreamgirl93, African Titan (Your reviews defy nature, man! Wow. How Pan-esque.), Wheres boo and Ronin101 for reviewing the last chappie!  
**

**Anyway, I think I've gone a bit pairing crazy in this chapter... Ginny/Harry, Harry/Charlie, Charlie/OC, Ron/Hermione, blink-and-you'll-miss-it Seamus/Dean... And there is a tiny bit of slashy action in there... If things go to plan (and they rarely do) there will certainly be more than a 'tiny' bit of slash action in the next chapter! But, at the moment, that is beside the point. So: ONWARDS!**

* * *

Time passed and Charlie didn't see Harry. He did try to settle back into his old routine that had felt so restful before, but now it felt uncomfortably small, like one of his Mother's woollen sweaters that had shrunk in the wash. Perhaps it was his disrupted sense of peace that made it so. Before he could spend silent hours at a time, staring off into some uncertain point in the distance, considering any thought or concept that sprang to mind and following the resulting random tangents. During his time with Harry the brunet often dominated his thoughts, yet other musings had still inhabited his wandering mind. But when he had strongly suspected and now, four weeks and two days after the 'incident', thoroughly _believed_ that Harry would never return to him, he found that Harry Potter had complete monopoly of his thoughts. He found himself 'falling out of reality' with increasing frequency, which had resulted in him getting bitten by a particularly feisty young dragon.

This was why he was sitting sullenly at his kitchen table applying a foul-smelling poultice to his left forearm. He concentrated fiercely as he awkwardly wrapped the bandage over his wound, inwardly telling his errant mind that it could think about whatever it wanted to when he wasn't doing anything that required a basic mental capacity. Thinking back, he was kind of surprised it had taken him this long to sustain a serious injury. However, his shins now sported constant bruises from running into furniture, the knees of all his pants had grass-stains from his persistent, new habit of tripping and he hadn't been able to produce an unburnt dinner in days. He fixed his bandage firmly in place just as the familiar rush of the Floo sounded. He flew to his feet, banging his knee on the table in the process, and quickly stomped down upon the hope that had flared in his chest. He half-forced a smile onto his face as Ron ducked out from the fireplace.

"Hey there, little brother," he said, clapping Ron on the back heartily.

"Hi Charlie," Ron replied, a grin huge on his face. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, it's been ages. So, what brings you here?" Charlie asked, guiltily thinking of Harry.

"What? Aren't I allowed to just visit my brother?" Ron asked good-naturedly, "But I did come for a reason, to give you the invites to the wedding and my stag party."

"Merlin, I'll end up the spinster of this family the way things are going! Bill's got Fleur, Percy's with Audrey, Fred's dating Angelina, you and Hermione, and even Ginny and Harry..." He managed to say his name without choking, thankfully.

"Nah, I'm sure you'll find some nice girl, er, I mean guy," Ron looked slightly uncomfortable and Charlie fleetingly wondered how he would feel if he knew what was really going on.

"Thanks Ron," he managed, giving a smile that verged on grim. Ron turned down his subsequent offer of tea and made his relatively swift departure, leaving the invitations on the table. Charlie suddenly felt sorry for Harry. Coming out to Ron had been unsettling enough when he was his brother, coming out to him as his best friend was almost unthinkable. Almost.

* * *

A month or so passed. By no means did it pass quickly, instead Time dragged like it was weighted by a ball and chain attached to it's skinny ankle. Then, one overcast day in March, Charlie packed a small bag; his mother had assured him she had dress robes waiting for him, and Flooed to an International Fireplace in the Ministry of Magic. After a quick security check, he passed out of the Ministry and Apparated to the Burrow. It was a mad whirlwind of activity. Molly dashed about, almost seeming to be everywhere at once, assisted by an excited Fleur, a prim woman who he assumed was Percy's wife, Audrey, who hadn't met before, a bored and annoyed Ginny and a rather frantic, bushy-haired, bride-to-be in the shape of Hermione Granger. He swiftly joined his father and brothers, who stood in an out of the way spot, drinking tea and Butterbeer, eying the madness warily, as if it could suck them into a vortex that would never release its hold. They were all absurdly grateful as the time for Ron's stag party, the perfect escape, drew nearer.

"So, Ron," Bill asked with a grin as they walked up the lane to a road where the Knight Bus could pick them up. "Who's coming to this party? Besides us..." Charlie immediately made a point of listening to his youngest brother, who shrugged before answering.

"Some old school friends, couple of work mates. Harry, of course." Charlie allowed himself to release an imperceptible sigh. He had known it would be practically impossible to avoid seeing his brother's best friend tonight. And, Merlin knew, he wouldn't get conveniently ill to save Charlie what he expected to be a very long night. They reached the main road and his father lifted his wand to signal. Charlie felt so suddenly weary that he didn't even flinch when the rollicking purple bus banged out of nowhere, rushing past him with inches to spare, before shuddering to a stop. He and his brothers clambered aboard, looking for seats, while Arthur dealt with tickets. Within twenty minutes they were in Wizard London in a street called Rhytanga Lane. Located perpendicularly to Diagon Ally, it was the centre of the wizarding nightlife in London.

They stumbled off the bus in a milling group, until Percy took the lead and they managed to find the designated club. Outside, a boy Charlie vaguely remembered as Neville Longbottom met them. There was also a guy with sandy hair, a loud mouth and an Irish accent and, as quite a polar opposite, a shy, dark-skinned boy, who watched the other with protective glint in his eye. Harry, it seemed, was late. He ran up, completely out of breath, a few minutes later. He breathlessly explained and apologised, not noticing Charlie, who was blending in with the collective group that was Ron's older brothers. Charlie cursed himself for finding that flushed face so alluring still. It was only as they entered the club, with everyone shuffled into randomness, that Harry noticed Charlie standing behind him.

"Charlie?" he exclaimed, almost sounding breathless. Charlie raised an eyebrow and gave a small shrug.

"What would you expect? I am Ron's brother," he replied quietly, his tone neutral, to the implicit question. He watched closely, curious to how he would react.

"I... I didn't think..."

"You don't often think, do you Harry?" Charlie interrupted, surprised at himself. Harry's face darkened and he turned his back to him, quickly striking up a conversation with the shy boy, Dean. They were soon ushered into the club full of roaring men and scantily clad women. Charlie sighed and swiftly made his way over to the bar, might as well get comfortable.

"What'll it be, love?" asked a busty barmaid with overly glossed lips.

"Just a Butterbeer, thanks," he muttered, sliding himself into one of the seats near the end of the bar. Something told him that getting blind drunk wouldn't be a great idea tonight.

He was staring at the dregs of his second glass of Butterbeer when he felt someone sit on the chair next to him. He looked up, expecting to see Bill or Percy and hoping for someone else entirely, but instead he clapped eyes on a complete stranger. And a gorgeous stranger at that. Spiked, dirty blond hair, a fitted shirt and jeans that clung in all the right places. _Completely unlike Harry..._ Charlie considered for only a moment, it was better than wallowing in his misery for the rest of the night.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile, "I'm Charlie. Did you get dragged here by your mates too?" He silently held his breath, hoping he hadn't made a huge mistake. He relaxed as soon as his smile was returned.

"Yeah, kind of," he replied, "And I'm Jake, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. How 'kind of'?" Charlie asked, quirking an eyebrow. Jake chuckled.

"Well, I wasn't entirely dragged because I get to take them to a gay bar next time," he explained, grinning wolfishly. Charlie smiled at the implied question.

"Now that _is_ a good idea," he replied in kind, "My brothers would never be the same!"

"You're here with your brothers? Not got a twin, have you?" Jake asked, grinning suggestively.

"No, that's-... That was Fred and George... But, well, Fred..." Charlie trailed off, trying to find the right words. "The War," he surmised grimly.

"Oh, sorry," he apologised softly, avoiding Charlie's eye, and the conversation lapsed into silence.

"Look, it's okay," Charlie said haltedly after a while, "You didn't know... I mean, we're here to have fun, right?"

"Fun is definitely a plus," Jake said, looking a little less upset.

"So," Charlie began, flashing his sexiest smile and wondering if he would regret this, "How about I buy you a drink and then we ditch this place?" A sultry grin and warm hand smoothing up his thigh were answer enough.

"I'd like that," he replied.

*

They chatted about inconsequential things as they sipped on their respective drinks; music, Quidditch, work, coming out...

"It was so clichéd!" Jake exclaimed, his hands as animated as his face. "Because we were making out in my wardrobe for some really good reason. I can't even remember now! Anyway, we were leaning against the door and my sister came into my room looking for a belt or shirt, something like that, and she opened the wardrobe and we basically fell on top of her! Literally came out of the closet. Once she knew I felt so much better about everything, so I ended up telling everybody." He shrugged, grinning almost sheepishly.

"My story's nothing nearly as exciting," Charlie said, "It was the Christmas break during my final year at Hogwarts and I knew I wanted to tell my parents and some of my brothers. And my birthday is about a fortnight before Christmas, which was convenient because the whole family would be there. I was turning 17. We were sitting around the table after dinner and my youngest brother and sister had gone to bed, so I told them. I said 'Mum that dinner was great... And I'm gay.' A bit overdramatic, but it all worked out," he trailed off, thinking about Harry and his closeted state.

"Have you ever been with someone who's been in the closet? While you were out, I mean." Charlie babbled, feeling slightly awkward. Jake wrinkled his nose, surprising Charlie when he found it strangely endearing.

"Yeah, hard isn't it? All the secrecy that you thought you were done with comes back. Gets old fast." James said. Charlie nodded sympathetically. "It didn't last long for me either. I think he ended up coming out a year or so later. What about you?" Charlie sighed heavily.

"It's sounds so terrible out loud, like one of those Muggle soap operas or something. Well, apart from being in the closet he also happens to be best friends with my little brother. Plus, he's engaged to my sister, of all people. And he's kind of well known, so I reckon that makes him a bit more paranoid."

"Wow," Jake murmured, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head, "That's... Well, that's shit!" Charlie laughed loudly, glad for Jake' bluntness, wondering if he had noticed that he had unconciously used present tense.

"It most certainly is," he concluded, downing the rest of his drink. "You ready to go?" Jake nodded and rose.

They wove through the crowd, holding hands so as not to lose each other. Charlie found himself subconsciously scanning the passing crowd for one face and nearly missed Bill as they passed him, taking the opportunity to explain that he wouldn't be coming home that night. Soon after, Charlie and Jake stumbled outside, still holding hands and grinning at each other for no reason at all.

"So," Jake began, "My place then? As much as I'd love to see Romania, I don't think that the Ministry would let us borrow the International Floo at this time of night." Charlie was instantly reminded of Harry and his impulsive cross-country Flooing that was totally unaffected by the time of day.

"Yeah, your place," he replied.

"Charlie?" He turned sharply at the voice that came from behind him. Harry pushed off the outer wall of the club, his face partially illuminated by the coloured lights. His eyes immediately flicked to Jake.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice deepening dangerously.

"Why do _you_ want to know, Harry?" Charlie asked in return, keeping his tone neutral. He heard Jake suck in a breath behind him as his connected the shadowed face to the name.

"Do you want me to leave, Charlie?" he whispered in his ear, sounding slightly nervous.

"Stay," Charlie insisted in the same, calm manner, "He gave up any control of me when he decided to stay shut up in all that damn secrecy."

"Well, if it's _him_... It's a little more understandable!" Jake whispered, sounding slightly awed.

"Yeah, totally understandable. Him getting married to my sister and keeping me hanging." Charlie didn't try to shield the bitterness that was creeping into his voice. Jake' mouth twitched and his expression darkened a fraction as watched Harry cautiously.

"I'll stay."

"What are you saying to him?" Harry demanded.

"You don't have the right to ask that. I'm quite sure you remember when you gave that up," Charlie pointed out.

"I... Charlie, I didn't mean to... Please!" Charlie bit his lip hard, finding Harry's begging nearly impossible to resist.

"Let's go Jake," he whispered, his voice sounding slightly strangled as he slipped his arm around the blond's waist. Jake nodded and Apparated. Charlie's heart clenched as Harry's face dissolved into black. In any other circumstance, he would have described that expression as heart-broken.

*

The room they appeared in seemed to be a living room, lit only by a small, magical lantern in the corner that spilled honey-hued light. He turned to face Jake, not bothering to relinquish his hold on his waist, marvelling at how attractive he was in the soft light. But that's all it was, simple, physical attraction, nothing more. With Harry it had always been more, still was more. He bent his head to capture the blond's lips that were just as soft as they looked. He noticed for the first time that Jake was about a head shorter than him and that his neck was bent quite awkwardly. Harry was only about an inch shorter than him, which was a lot more comfortable. He mentally shook himself, determined to banish all comparisons of Harry from his mind. Jake broke the, as of yet, chaste kiss, concern clear on his face.

"Are you sure that this is what you need, Charlie?" he asked sincerely, "I know that you're not together, but that doesn't mean..." he trailed off, swallowing noticeably as Charlie's fingers began to creep under the hem of his shirt, tracing the warm flesh beneath.

"I'm fine," Charlie whispered as he began to mouth at Jake's neck, making a little noise of frustration as the path he was tracing was suddenly obscured by fabric. He divested the shorter man of his shirt in moments, attacking the joint between his neck and shoulder with renewed vigour. Jake tilted his head back with a breathy moan and grasped the other's hips, swiftly jerking them together to collide deliciously with his own. They began to grind against each other in earnest as Charlie's mouth migrated back towards Jake's and they shared a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

"Come on," Jake somehow managed to murmur between it all, and began to drag Charlie towards his bedroom. After all, the springs in his mattress were definitely superior to those in the couch.

* * *

Charlie woke wrapped around a delectably warm body.

"Harry?" he muttered sleepily and unintelligibly into the smooth skin his mouth was pressed against, someone's shoulder blade to be precise. Something wasn't quite right.

"Morning," the yawning voice wasn't Harry's. Jake, he remembered.

"Mornin'" he murmured back, voice rough.

"I cannot believe that Harry Potter gave up _that_ to be with some girl! No offence to your sister, of course," he said, carding his fingers through Charlie's hair. Charlie chuckled, but couldn't help noticing that his heart wasn't really in it.

"Thanks, I think," he said, before grimacing slightly, "I should probably get back. Little brother getting married and all."

"Yeah," Jake whispered, pausing for a moment, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his avoidance of the question an answer in itself.

"S'ok," Jake shrugged, "You reckon a one-night stand's what you need and I'm really not objecting here." He grinned infectiously, before dragging himself into a sitting position.

"Do you want some breakfast? Or do you need to go," he asked, looking like he already knew the answer. Charlie shrugged.

"Mum makes enough, there'll probably be heaps left still."

"Right, owl me if you need anything," he offered, slipping on a pair of boxers and sending him one last smile at him as he exited the bedroom.

Charlie felt guilt rise within him as he saw the hidden hurt in those soft, brown (not green) eyes. He sighed, rolling out of the bed and dressing speedily before Apparating back to the Burrow. He winced at the change from the dimly lit bedroom to the sunny front yard. He could already hear Molly screeching inside. He crept into the kitchen, but was spotted immediately.

"Charlie!" she exclaimed, "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? You were meant to be helping Bill with the tables! Go on! Get going!" She began to shoo him out of the kitchen.

"Yes mum," he grumbled, grabbing a piece of toast on his way out, trying not to notice that it was dry and stone cold. Today was about Ron and Hermione, his issues didn't matter.

**

* * *

Oh, Charlie... I think he needs a hug... What do you guys think? I know! All your reveiws equal hugs for Charlie! Yipee! I'll even let you hug him yourself...**


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